I met her in the summer of 1976, several months after my first wife and I had split. She was slender, brown-eyed, and she had long curly brown hair that was soft and luxuriant. Slender as she was, she still had some interesting bumps and curves here and there, and I was crazy about her. She was a pale skinned Italian from Italy's mountainous north, where some family names end in "ghi".
We met several times, for coffee and such, and finally, one day I kissed her. Hard. The problem was she had a scar on her upper lip and when we kissed - it hurt her. A lot. Like I said, I had kissed her hard, in a moment of enthusiasm. Kissing is not supposed to hurt. Ever.
Any chance at a lasting romance went bye-bye with that kiss. I have never kissed a woman hard since. Hugging? Absolutely. I'm famous for my BIG hugs. But not kisses anymore. First kisses are always gentle. I learned my lesson.
I only kiss hard upon request.
Ndinombethe.
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1 comments:
It is a smart man who learns from his life experiences.
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